Towards the evening, but before the dinner meal, and when neither is otherwise occupied, Marius will call on Lucas. He has convinced himself it is a friendly thing to do, and he's kind of avoiding the other Knights after the morning's conversation...plus, Lucas was wounded and he still had some questions about the events that perhaps would shed light on other of his endeavours. So it's a social call.
It will be a light tap on the door, and once allowance is made for his entering, Marius will approach Lucas with some caution. Not a "things might attack," kind of caution, but a, "I don't know this person very well," kind of caution.
"Greetings." He smiles. "I suppose we are cousins," he says, offering his hand.
"I suppose we are," responds Lucas, taking his hand in a rather limp grasp.
Marius, in light of Lucas' aggravated condition, doesn't press, but neither does he swish. Erm. That is to say, it is a punctuated shake, with a quick release.
[Lucas]
"Either that, or a considerable number of people have been lying to us very
convincingly, over a number of years.
"Not a possibility that I would always discard, but in this case I fancy what we've been told is accurate enough. Will you have a seat?"
"Gladly," Marius says, and he sits himself down in a dignified fashion after glancing at Ossian's drawing with a grin. "Alas, all the red hair points to a very specific pool of parentage," he says, stretching out slightly. "But that pool is deeper than Rebma, and perhaps just as twisted." He smiles, paraphrasing his mother.
He watches Marius with his heavy-lidded eyes, seeming to asses his appearance.
[Marius is] wearing shades of brown, mostly auburn and russet, all very generic, very "capable of blending in no matter what the style," with a medium nature to it. If there's any handsomeness, it all comes from him and the force of his personality. The suit doesn't talk.
Ah, but Lucas would tell you that it screams.
[Only when pinched.]
Lucas could probably name the Shadow that produced the russet waistcoat (or whatever ;-) ). No - he could name the hill the goat grazed on, and probably kissed the maid that carded the yarn.
Or so he would have people believe ...
Lucas himself is wearing the rather dashing cap he has designed to cover his mutilated ear, and a rich robe of softest leather, trimmed (and possibly lined) with fur.
"Might I offer you something to drink?" he asks. "I am somewhat restricted in my own choices at the moment - but that barbaric prohibition does not apply to those good enough to come to visit me."
"You may certainly offer," he says, with a grin and a nod.
"Then I do," says Lucas. "Although I don't pretend to have access to some of the more arcane beverages of Shadow, I have a tolerable cellar, I believe. What would you like?"
"I bow to your inestimable knowledge of the subject matter. Something light I won't regret before dinner or dreams," Marius says. He's not smiling. He watches Lucas carefully, as if looking for something, and then, whether or not he's found it, he leans back a little deeper into his chair, that persistent cheshire smile having returned.
Lucas stretches out an arm and rings the bell that stands on the table beside him. The lugubrious valet appears.
"Gaston," says Lucas, "Some whiskey for my cousin. One, I think, of the peatier malts. The Laphroaig, perhaps."
The valet bows and departs. In a remarkably short-time he returns with a cut crystal tumbler, half-filled with an amber liquid that has a rich smokey smell. This he sets down next to Marius.
"I'd offer to taste it, if you like," Lucas says with a slight smile. "I believe some of my visitors think I might try to poison them."
"And waste your hospitality?" Marius asks, as if genuinely surprised. He tastes it carefully, and then nods, not sure if he agrees that Lucas' choice matches his request, but willing to try.
"I must confess," [Lucas] continues, "to a certain curiosity as to people's perceptions of the evening's entertainments ... "
"That would underline the reason for my visit. We have become so many I expect the pecking order to be in doubt for a few dozen years, provided it is not settled for us. Which is to say," he grins, "that I am afraid I am not the type to make a social call." There. That settles his conscience.
"No?" says Lucas, half reclining in his chair. "But on the other hand, if you continue to visit the sick in this kind-hearted way, we may hope to civilise you yet.
"Or perhaps your visit has another motivation? I do hope you have not inhaled any of the martial vapours that seem to be sweeping Amber at this moment and have come to challenge me to a duel."
"Alas, my mother attempted to make a proper gentleman of me, and I think she succeeded... except for my lucid misogyny and devotion to duty," Marius notes, drily. His smile is in full beam mode, though, wide with white teeth showing. "But no, unless I've been misinformed, I've no reason to cross swords or words with you.
"I am afraid that my perceptions [of the Masque] were altered by being on the fringes. I could tell you that I hope for another dance with Folly, that the Queen knows what an otter is, and that I dream strange dreams. On the other hand, I have come here to ask a question that is entirely too personal. Are you up to it?" [Marius] asks, curiously.
"Oh, I'm always up to talking about moi," says Lucas, the heavy lids drooping a little further over his eyes. "And I find it infinitely more engrossing than terpsichore with Folly, zoology with the Queen, or Jungian theories that apply to anyone other than me.
"Suspense is an entirely delicious state to find oneself in ... but do go ahead and ask your question anyway ... "
"Did it hurt?" Marius asks, with an almost savouring tone of voice.
Lucas blinks. Clearly this was not the question he was expecting - or anything like it.
[Marius] looks almost apologetic for a moment. "Rather, were you conscious of the pain, or was it too quick? Did you feel anything different than you...expected?"
"Ah, I see," returns Lucas, a lurking smile on his lips. "You want to know whether I have been injured or infected. An interesting question indeeed. Do I know feel the raging fires of Chaos in my blood, or am I the old Lucas, although unusually sober thanks to my nurses ... but ready to continue my life of heedless decadence ... "
He is silent for a moment, although whether he is considering his answer or consulting his memory of the events is unclear.
"I remember moving towards Cambina," he says slowly at last. "Then I remember a sudden sharp pain, like a slash from a razor, and a feeling of profound irritation. Then I was falling - I had the strangest feeling I was falling extremely slowly ...
"I had one hand on Cambina ... another lifted up in a rather foolish attempt to ward off more cards ... the sounds in the ballroon were beconming rather a roar ... blurred ...
"And then there was a smack, I felt my head hit something hard, and that was it," he says, a little more briskly. "Unconscious. No dreams, no hauntings from the Abyss, no insane and bloodthirsty urges to destroy Amber. Not yet, anyway. Gerard has, incidentally, checked me out and pronounced it a clean wound. On the other hand ... "
He considers Marius with interest. "Do tell - do you have a list of people who were wounded? Those who received blood wounds ... from the cards?"
"It might be an improper sampling, given the differences from one blood to another," Marius says, frowning. "However, I may follow that puzzle slightly longer."
He sips at his drink. "I am amply satisfied." He might mean Lucas' answer, or the drink.
"I am delighted to have been of service," returns Lucas piously.
"I'd be interested in learning if you discover anything," says Lucas. One long languid hand rises to touch the side of his hat. "You might say ... I take a personal interest in this matter. In return, I'll keep you appraised if I have any ... strange dreams."
"I shall endeavour to keep you appraised of anything I learn of interest in this matter," Marius agrees.
"Thank you," says Lucas. "Something - could it be my mother? - tells me that I will largely be confined to the castle and - at most - the city for the next few days at least. It occurs to me that within those limits, I could consolidate information - that might be of interest and use to us both."
"Your ears, pardon," he permits for his indiscretion, "listen in places differently than my own," he agrees.
"Might I make so bold as to ask - is there any speacial reason for your interest?"
[Marius] shifts slightly. "I was struck down in Chaos." He reflects briefly and shakes his head. "But we are as cats, and one life lost merely leaves us slightly more cautious in our curiosity."
"Ah," says Lucas. "Yes, well, that would sharpen the interest. Might I ask - where you were struck? And how badly? Did a Chaosian weapon mingle with your blood?"
"I...believe I was struck by sourcery. I am afraid the moments have been lost to my memory." [Marius] shakes his head. "I worry that I may be changed, but I must admit, sometimes I'm worried more that I am not." He smiles.
Lucas smiles too, ruefully. "It seems we have something to be mutually concerned about, then, as we sip our brandies and muse by a glowing fire. It may be a source of strength if we can work together."
"I do not place too much fear in it, but concern, yes, that I always have when I lack full understanding." Marius shrugs. "I have attempted to discuss a small piece of this with our resident from that place," he shakes his head. "The conversations have not gone well... it is not just a matter of common language, but more that our Cousin puts up such a defensive." He gives the kind of open-handed shrug that says everything and nothing at once.
"Tell me, Cousin, is there any news I could give you of what has happened in the meantime or otherwise send tidings from you before the dinner bells?"
"So far," says Lucas, "I have heard very little of the abrupt departure of Random and Martin - beyond the fact of its accomplishment. Puff! and they are gone - and Folly too. Have you heard any more than that?"
"And Folly," Marius repeats. "I hope to learn more; it seemed assumed that it would happen, but the details have not been brought into my confidence." He shakes his head again. "It is not just them, I fear," he repeats the list Caine gave him. "Our Uncles Corwin, Bleys, Julian, and our Aunts Fiona and Llewella, well," he grins, "we are held strong against 5 ambitious midshipmen and a hound, but anything more," say half a dozen midshipmen, "and there's no promises given."
Lucas gives a low laugh. "What a time to be confined to my room! The opportunities for mischief seems very wide ... " More seriously he adds, "So who is seeing to security? The Knights? Or Gerard?"
"Mischief is too easy," but Marius grins wider, anyway. "Besides, the ones to best appreciate it may be the same ones missing. Except, perhaps, Ossian," he decides, amusedly. He gives a little tilt of his head. "I believe Adm--" he corrects, "our Uncle Caine is seeing to that, at least in part. The Knights have pretty much picked their own tasks, but security is indeed one of their goals."
"And what are you intending to do next?"
"Next? Why, dazzle all I meet with my charm and brilliance, and covet their secrets until I find the recipe for happiness or power. One or the other may suit." [Marius] grins. "Knightly business inspires me to follow a particularly warm trail." He stops and something occurs to him. "I don't suppose..." he says it aloud, "...that you knew my mother at all well?" he asks.
Lucas glances at him, and then shakes his head. "I'm afraid not. I spent most of my youth in Shadow ... and adulthood too for that matter. Shadow Earth and then ... travelling. Even during the Interregnum, Mother preferred me at a safe distance .. "
It doesn't disappoint Marius, but it had to be asked.
[Lucas] sighs. "Believe me, cousin, I can sympathise fully with your grief, but I have to tell you that a living Amberite mother is by no means an unalloyed blessing ..."
Marius smiles at this, maybe more warmly than nostalgically.
"How well did you know her? I've heard tales ... saw her a few times .... but nothing approaching a real knowledge, I'm afraid."
"If the tales are ones I haven't heard, I'm interested. Otherwise, there are days I think I knew her better than anyone, and days when I don't think I knew her at all." He shrugs. "She was ambitious, devious, and I don't know if she trusted anybody. In short, she was everything we expect from Family."
"Well, those were pretty much the tales I've heard," agrees Lucas.
Marius chuckles softly, and nods. Kind of like Lucas', "Indeed." He sips carefully through Lucas' recitation.
[Lucas]
"Some particularly scurrilous gossip goes so far as to suggest a decidedly
non-familial relationship with one of our uncles, but that, I feel, has a
strong element of wishful thinking on the part of the rumour-mongers, and
probably tells us more about their mental state than that of those gossiped
about."
Marius' expression is half rolling-his-eyes and half his-skin-is-crawling and he shakes his head just slightly, placing his cup back down.
[Lucas] looks at Marius with amused interest. "And does her son take after her? What qualities do you feel you've inherited as opposed to earned?"
[Marius's] expression goes somewhat blank for a moment, before it animates with a soft grin. "Her son? He is a man of many tempers, and in that, perhaps devious. While his ambitions are no longer the same, they still push him with the ferocity she shared." He smiles wider. "But he finds that trust is better when given rather than withheld," he says, raising his glass and drinking the last of it with the bit of gesture as if 'twere a toast.
"I believe I have multiple tasks to accomplish, then, before I return," he says, standing. "Please let me know if there is anything I, personally, can do to make your convalescence more comfortable," he says, smiling even more broadly. "It has been a pleasure meeting you in full, Cousin," he says with a hint of a bow.
"And you," says Lucas. "When we meet again, I trust we shall be able to share a pleasant drink, rather than my having to sit here and watch you, like a deerhound deprived of venison."
Felicity is bearing up well under the strain of her husband's death. He's been ill for a while, and even though it was a shock, it wasn't entirely unexpected.
The funeral is a simple, dignified affair, arranged by Felicity. Felicity and Lord Hardwind's daughter, Opal, are the chief mourners. Queen Vialle, Gerard, and Worth are also present.
[Any PCs who want to attend the funeral may also do so.]
I'm presuming Lucas still won't be well enough to attend?
He'll send Solace (please, darling, for me) who will deliver notes of condolence to both Felicity and Opal.
The notes will not be offers to mediate or invitations to visit, but will be delicately open-ended, suggesting that if either lady should care to visit Lucas, they might be sure of finding a sympathetic ear.
Yes, just the one. We all know what's happened to the other ear.
Ossian will attend, quietly, in the background.
Lilly will accompany the Queen.
After the funeral and the wake, Felicity, Worth, and Solange speak with Lord Hardwind's solicitor. The news is very bad: Lord Hardwind had revoked his will and did not complete his new will before his death. Felicity's position is very unclear.
While Felicity certainly has a life interest in the townhouse and can stay there, the situation with Fleet's accumulated monies and trading interests is less clear. There is likely to be a lawsuit. If Opal sues for the accumulated monies, she can end up driving Felicity from the townhouse by starving her out. And Felicity could be sued for waste of the property if she doesn't maintain it.
Felicity waits until they are finished with the solicitor to have a good cry on Worth's shoulder about all this.
Gerard is extremely displeased by this news and secures the services of Lord Peal for Felicity in the upcoming (inevitable, he feels) court battle.
Those who attend the funeral are thanked by Felicity and Opal.
Those who send notes receive gracious notes in return. While notes from Opal are absolutely correct in manners, they seem colder than notes from Felicity.
Solange finds herself busy for the next few days with Lord Peal and Worth, discussing and dealing with Lord Hardwind's affairs, which are not in good order. He was a terrible bookkeeper.
On further investigation, it's possible that he had help being a terrible bookkeeper.
Does it look as if the Sackville-Hardwinds got in during the funeral and shredded his correspondence, or is it something more insidious?
This looks like years of neglect or corruption. The suspicion of corruption comes up because none of the mistakes are in his favor.
All right, who was his man of business, or perhaps his steward or butler? Are the mistakes clustered in any particular area of expenditure -- clothes, wine cellar, food, pay for household staff, investments? Solange plays auditor, and looks for patterns.
Opal insists on having her own auditor also examine the books. She probably has the upper hand in terms of actual possession of the business properties, although you've got the books from his home.
The current Steward is a man named Seek (played by Neil Patrick Harris), a gaunt young man of less than 20. His grandfather came out of retirement to run Lord Hardwind's estate when Seek's father went to the war. Seek took over for his grandfather some time ago, and is very helpful. Lord Hardwind always kept the books himself, according to Seek.
Opal's auditor, Lyre (played by Larry Linville), thinks that Seek, Worth, and Solange are hiding something.
After that first incredibly hectic day after the Coronation Debacle, hopefully Brennan's pace can slacken a bit and find a routine that has at least a little bit of free time. These are the sorts of things in which Brennan engages himself:
1) He has coded papers from Brand to look through, now. The first task would be to make a good, high quality tracing of them, in case the originals should be lost or stolen. Then, for at least a few hours a day and possibly much more, Brennan will begin the task of successive decodes and interpretations.
This is not a one night task.
2) If there's a member of the Family who is staying in Amber that Brennan is likely to spend time with, who isn't also a Knight, it would be Cambina. I would imagine a reasonable amount of time spent together.
They even had a project from before the coronation to keep them occupied: They had initiated a fishing expedition looking for information in the royal libraries about the Moonriders.
3) Army integration. This should be just about winding down if it's not already wound down. But Brennan wants to make sure it's completed properly, and doesn't just tail off into nowhere once Jerod and Vere depart for Paris, and Random departs for God only knows where.
Still keeping an eye out for idle second and third sons who have some intellect and ability, but aren't inclined to be merchants.
4) Getting to know the Knights, especially those he didn't nominate himself. I know Aisling had expressed some interest in that, and Brennan would invite Lilly, too. Any Knights who are idle or bored will, of course, have Suitable Tasks Found for the Betterment of Amber.
5) On a purely personal note, unless there's a pressing reason not to, Brennan will probably head down into the City every so often, to get a feel for the city. Brennan's idea of club life is closer to the Diogenes Club than the Red Mill, and he will eventually find the King's Gambit-- a club on the more intellectual side which has, for various reasons, a high concentration of the most skilled players of strategy games, such as Chess, Go, and others, on the rolls of its members.
On a morning "after," Marius will have his mother's page, Hedge, bring the following letter to wherever Jovian's maildrop is:
Sir Jovian,
I would like to pursue the path of the Firelilies at the earliest opportunity. I am at your convenience.
- Marius
It's written with a bit of haste, but all the "t"s are crossed, and the "i"s are dotted.
Marius will be checking on the others (as recommended by Lucas) who were injured in the ballroom fracas.
Lucas wouldn't mind an update on the results of that, old sport. He takes ... you might say ... a personal interest in the matter.
Vere took a wound, but he's gone. Outside the family, there are scores. Injuries are minor and the deaths that occurred were generally the result of falling or those who started out with a weakened constitution. One Naval Captain, his arm in a sling, tells you that it was like the first time a ship he served on faced an opponent with guns. "It was like chain through canvas."
[Marius] will be more than willing to listen to their reenactments, but he's mostly looking for anything unusual they feel, and if they've had strange dreams. He will do this after dinner on that night.
The majority of the wounded are either members of the upper classes or servants. The servants are pretty stoic, although it might be the case that the ones who are seriously wounded would like Royal Pensions. The upper classes are indignant and want "action".
The first few people you ask about this seem to get more agitated when you broach the subject, as if they hadn't considered long-term insidious Chaos poisons. One woman says that she will insist that her physician bleed the poisons out. [This line of questioning seems to be going badly, how hard do you press it?]
Marius will attempt to impress the importance not of insidious Chaosian influence (we have enough of that in the family!) but the worry and care that a noble might offer in this situation. While he personally is only making note of anything that might be unusual, I don't think he really wants to push a strictly Fortean approach. He makes no promises of support save to listen intently, and if he is so pressed, to say that it is a matter that lies near the top of royal concerns. (See, he doesn't even need to lie.)
Other than working a few nobles and servants into a froth, you don't really find out anything useful. You suspect that the ones who feel unnaturally weak may be the more dramatic sort.
The next morning, starting bright and early (but not too early) he will (if the night before lasted too late) finish that, and then get information from those with experience with the firelilies... [see mail to GM in regards to what he's looking for...]
Most experience would be Rangers, who left en masse with Julian and Robin.
Of course! Doesn't anybody even LIKE Amber anymore? [laughing]
The Rangers exited, heading for a war, under orders from their top boss. Like has nothing to do with it. Some of them might like not to be heading into combat with Daeon's mother, if you were to ask them...
Leaving me in the same position: I'd have to find them, first... [grinning]
Additional experience might be with those who will start streaming back towards the city as Julian and the Rangers begin enforcing the closing of Arden. Some in the army will have noted them, including the medical personnel and family members who were there when Daeon and Conner almost used one to burn down the hospital tent they were all in. Caine also has shown an interest in the Firelillies.
Out of curiosity (and hoping for a bit of luck on this matter), might some of these medical personnel have been available (or even someone he might have inquired of) when Marius does his investigation of the wounded?
No, because time flows forward. They are available now, though.
Then Marius will go to find and speak with these individuals now...
He is looking for the following information (but I am, of course, willing to play through it as well...):
1) The geography of the firelillies as understood from those who have tended them (ground-wise)
No one has tended them. There was one, plucked, that Daeon had, and other than that, while people (royals) have spoken of cutting one and keeping it in a glass of water and/or gasoline, no one has done such a thing.
Let me rephrase that, please. I faintly remember from the original discussion with Caine that there were some efforts made to remove things from their perhaps flammable proximity. (Please correct me if my memory is faulty on this.) That's what I meant by "tended" with an emphasis not to exclude any opportunities to remove/place firebreaks or otherwise halt any potential expansion.
That's a task that was given to Rangers. What you can find from people who either talked to them or saw them is that they were spreading in the direction that you guess is the direction that Daeon went when he left the camp.
Which adds to my question base, of course. Marius still is looking for how far "into Amber" (if at all) they have gotten. He was looking to see if there was any specific geographical features they limited themselves to, or any other physical pattern to them that was visible from the ground. He's perfectly willing to accept that these questions are effectively herrings of a rather pink nature, but he's going to pursue this from a careful approach. He's a believer in the scientific method except in items born of magic.
None of them have been reported since Heather Vale was abandoned. Of course, Julian ordered the forest closed around then.
[While no one here has seen it, Jovian has discovered them growing in streams and on flat rocks. They are rootless.]
Have they expanded?
Have they caused any damage than what has already been reported?
Not that anyone knows.
Well then, other than the fact that they're mysterious, Marius is lowering his personal potential threat estimate. He's just going to have to go and poke at them himself. Still, he's hoping he will run into the impatient Jovian's report and compare details at some point.
Individually, they don't seem too dangerous. But the whole en masse thing might be a bit worrying.
As for Jovian, he and his dragonrider pals haven't been around for a few days.
[Right now my knowledge suggests we should just distribute them to all the houses in Amber as a sort of portable flame generator. "Just another thing brought to you by the new King: never use flint & steel again!"]
2) Their threat value (immediate, pending, etc.)
It is unclear if they start fires or act as firebreaks. Conner almost had one shoved up his nose. He considered the possibility of a flaming floronasal insertion as a threat.
Even the most innocuous items can be threatening when up one's nose. I have experience with twinkie sponge cake goodness having been partially inhaled during a particularly innocent attack of laughter, and I still tear up at the memory of the pain.
(Of course, I know how Marius responds to this. "Alas, it appears Cousin Conner had not the necessary audacity to continue the experiment..." he would have murmured to himself.)
3) Any experiments performed on them and their results
No. People avoided them, other than your cousins and Caine. One of your contacts mentions that Caine said they don't seem to grow roots.
Even little pyrophiliac teenage boys on dares by sadistic girls?
Well, Conner batted it away and into the table full of highly flammable medical supplies, which promptly caught on fire. So, they can start fires.
A normal fire, however, which was extinguished in normal ways, correct?
Yes. They were able to beat it out, IIRC.
Other than that, Sir Brennan kept the camp on a war footing and discipline was better than that.
4) Any opinions the individuals he speaking to might have that are relevant to this investigation
Spooky stuff is best left to royals, most people think.
That sounds like Brandian philosophy. Suspicious.
5) Anything at all unusual that might in the slightest way be related.
It's too bad the Rangers left, because they would probably have investigated. Or at least some of them would have. But there is absolutely no one who wanted to have anything to do with them anywhere in town.
Once he gets these results, Marius will return to the castle. Who makes copies of maps in this world, anyway? Assuming Marius would know the answer, he wants to have a couple of copies of maps of Amber (I understand the accuracy varies) sent up to his rooms that no one's going to mind him taking his crayons (or the period equivalent) to as he makes some mental calculations and marks up the maps of Amber to include what he knows of the firelilies.
Nestor the librarian can get a scribe to make you a copy, in a few days. Several of your cousins are talented artists.
Several of Marius' cousins, but Marius likes to think of himself as, if not particularly imaginative, precise enough as well. He makes such an order (with all due respect).
Getting to his rooms (and probably Jovian's note, which gets him to utter a particularly heartfelt curse [if not the variety that one uses aboard the ship in order to remove the barnacles]) he also asks as to Lucas' rehabilitation.
After Vere's departure, Lord Hardwind's funeral, and the initial round of business with Lord Peal, Gerard arranges for a pleasant dinner with Solange, perhaps in the hopes of distracting her from all the unpleasant business of late.
Gerard lets the first couple of courses pass in pleasant chatter before he decides it's time to broach family business.
"Things have gotten a wee bit more complicated since last we talked about business. You've hinted about my legs quite a bit off and on, and I know you and your brother had plans about them that have gone by the wayside now that he has to return to the Isles. Vere's had hopes of this Aisling being able to do something for me, which I've always been less willing to place my hopes in than he, but now seems even more questionable. There's this matter of your uncle, and Felicity, and what seems sure to be a lawsuit. And my attention is divided: now I'm to have a meeting with Aisling on the matter of what she may or may not have done in the wars." He shakes his head.
"Have you thought about what you might do next? Lord Peal is competent to handle things for Felicity, but she'd do better with a sharp lass like you to help her. And Worth could certainly use the comfort of your presence. Or you could go to the Isles with your brother, or even to Paris by trump to support him when he walks the Pattern. Or if ye hae some idea--I suppose ye could go into shadow seekin' a cure for me legs. Or mebbe help me with this thing wi'Aisling."
Gerard falls silent and looks at Solange to see what she has to say.
[For the purposes of the game, we are assuming that Solange [goes] off in shadow, looking for a way to heal her father's legs. There is a Trump of her in the Trump Booth, and Gerard may be able to contact her if necessary.]
Sometime on the second day after the coronation, Brennan sits down and pens a set of letters, one each to Gerard, Caine, and Aisling.
Aisling's letter is delivered to her first, by Dignity:
Dame Aisling,
Let's get this unpleasant thing over and done with. Dignity has a wide open list of my schedule. He is instructed to get a similarly wide open list of yours for the next several days, and then to go quickly to Princes Gerard and Caine and commit us both to a meeting. I'm leaving it up to them whether the Queen should sit in as well.
See you then, if not sooner,
Brennan
When Dignite delivers that message to and obtains that information from Aisling, he will deliver Gerard's and Caine's to them. Gerard's and Caine's are largerly identical, differing only in salutation, and in the third paragraph (in the obvious fashion, by giving Caine precedence in his copy of the letter.)
Prince Gerard,
I will not belabour the obvious: Before Aisling distinguished herself on the field to become Dame Aisling, she was an intelligence agent for the Courts of Chaos. The entire Family knows that, and after the next broadsheet publication, so will the City, I'm sure.
After the events of the Coronation, whatever fond hopes that anyone had of ignoring or overlooking that history have been dashed. Dame Aisling believes it in the best interests of Amber to come forward and debrief on whatever of her activities might still remain hidden. She has asked my advice and help.
Prince Gerard, you were Regent during much or all of the time that Dame Aisling was here on her mission. Prince Caine is the Eldest of us all remaining in the City. This seems like a good starting place, under the circumstances. I leave it to your discretion whether Queen Vialle should be invited.
We've left our schedules fairly open, and young Dignity is empowered to commit us to a meeting at a time and place of your choosing.
Sir Brennan, KCOR
Hopefully, Gerard and Caine do not spurn the offer of a debrief. At least, not both of them. Assuming one or both are interested, Brennan will show up at the time and place selected. With his ubiquitous mug of coffee.
Actually, unless it's something like Gerard's Office, he'll show up early.
Caine writes back that he is setting up a temporary naval liaison office in the castle for the benefit of himself and Gerard and that he would be pleased to see the two of you there at Vespers.
Brennan arrives at some point. The two Princes are drinking cocktails. Gerard's actually has a long exotic feather in it and is no color found in nature.
Brennan is probably still on the hairy edge of caffeine poisoning, so he limits himself to just one coffee.
Sitting at a writing desk is Cambina, wearing a split skirt. There are no naval officers present, except for the admirals. The room is rather sparsely populated.
Caine notices that Brennan notices her and says "I've asked Cambina to take notes for us, so that we can keep this in the family."
She smiles at Brennan.
Brennan gives Cambina a covert wink, then greets all three properly. He's got nothing important until Aisling shows up, so he'll take a seat and make with the small talk while waiting for Aisling.
Aisling shows up early, as well. She's in a simple light tea-gold silk Sleeping-Beauty style dress, a V of gold brocade sewn on the back masking the places that once permitted streamer egress. The dress brings out the golden hints in her skin; the only purple bit on her is her eyes. The outfit is accessorized with a sword belt.
She takes in the room and addresses Brennan with a polite smile, "Oh, good. I'd been meaning to have a talk similar to this with Lady Cambina and you. You must have read my mind." Water ain't gettin' nothing from her; deduction might stand half a chance.
Cambina smiles. "Uncle asked me to take notes so that you wouldn't feel uncomfortable about speaking freely about family matters."
Aisling smiles back at her, and then at the rest.
She bows formally, "Greetings to the room and all in it," and she takes a seat. "Shall we start with questions?"
Gerard is about to speak, when Caine says "Of course. Brennan indicated that you had things you wanted to tell us. It would probably help if you told us all about it, in your own way, and we held our questions to the end."
She nods once.
[Caine] takes a sip of his drink, then looks up at Aisling. "Can we get you something to drink?"
"Thank you. I'll have some of whatever you would like."
Brennan handles this detail. He gets up to refresh his own coffee, and so pours Aisling a coffee as well. Since Caine and Gerard are drinking something a little more potent, Brennan makes Aisling's an Irish coffee.
She wraps her hand loosely around her elbow, and her violet eyes look up and out as she sorts though her mind. Then she exhales very gently and focuses on the others again. "I have tried to be forthcoming about my past in Amber -- my engagement as a spy -- and I had hoped that from this you would come to all the correct conclusions about damage and other troubles I caused you. However, detailed information and confirmation cannot but help you assess this damage, and work towards healing it." She's slightly paler, and takes a testing sip of her drink.
She begins like a story, but far more even in tone. "We're born, in Chaos, for a purpose, though I was always denied knowledge of mine. The only mention I've had was that I wasn't meant to be a spy in Amber; but it was nice to have something to do, and I could do it well...
"I had few orders, less information. I was told, "Watch the royals, learn about them, report who is in or out of the city, find their children, do not trust agents of other houses." " She's quoting directly there, and Brennan might recognize that she's quoting Madoc; they did briefly meet. "I was also told to steer well clear of Clarissa's lot, for they were extremely dangerous, and to stay off of the Black Road.
"Let me first speak about children. Of those of your family who were then unknown to the populace, I located only Paige, Marius, and Solange. I sent back reports only on Paige and Marius, however. Solange," she's speaking directly to Gerard, "I felt you had done such a capital job of hiding that I could refrain from mentioning.
"Marius," speaking to Caine now, "I caught wind of from the gossip of the sailors, and so I'd had him attributed to you. Paige I chanced across. These two I picked up on later, when the war was hot, and I could not devote so much time to tracking them as I devoted to the rest of you," she looks to Cambina, and then returns to looking at all of them.
She pauses to wet her throat with whatever it is that she's drinking, all the while watching and trying feel how each of them is feeling, and about what specifically.
Hopefully Brennan won't be Vere-like the whole time, but he's heard this before. His reactions are mute, since none of it is a surprise, and for the moment he's going to wait for reactions from the Admirals before saying or doing much.
Cambina is taking notes, she seems annoyed and you don't think she believes everything you've said. The Princes are hard to read, especially as they haven't said anything.
Gerard reaches down and massages his leg.
"Go on," says Caine, not unkindly.
"I wish I knew the reasons behind the war..." Aisling trails off, then starts again with the story.
"As for learning about you, there were three general areas I focused on. I picked up as much of your histories as I could from writings and gossip. I considered how to imitate you, and how to influence you. Since it is far easier to see what you show than what you are, the former is no doubt much more accurate than the latter. However, I did what I could to completely analyze the persons and methods that met with your approval or enmity." Aisling glances at Cambina, and then looks back to the group as a whole and speaks on a different tack.
"As for mimicking you, I never felt there was a benefit to it that would outweigh the risk. Dara, I suppose, had less time to spend watching, and decided to just ask directly to learn whatever it was she wanted. I'm not sure if she had my information... As I told Sir Brennan the night of the coronation, most Chaosites would augment their mimicry with sorcery, and would thus have far less need of careful observation." She pauses there, expecting comment.
Gerard speaks slowly. "Why d' ye say 'most'? Would you?"
"I have no sorcery. I-- It's complex. I had to assume that whatever it was I was for, I wouldn't appreciate. So I dug in my heels when it came to learning sorcery. And I don't really like to ...dabble in things I don't understand." Aisling offers him a tiny little flicker of a smile, this sounds so unlikely, how can I make the truth sound like the truth?
Gerard looks confused. "Would'na appreciate what? Ye did nae study Sorcery because 'twas part of what you were born for, and ye did not ken to being what Madoc wanted?"
Aisling grimaces, the most expression she's shown so far, though it's still unreadable since she can't (or won't) put name to the swirl of emotions of which the grimace is outward trace. "I-- It's not that. If he'd told me what he wanted, I would have thrown my heart and all my hissing energy into it, for I wanted him--," Aisling's eyes flick to Cambina and away, "--I wanted to please him. But for whatever reason, he preferred to f-- present me only one sensible path forward, without word of its end."
She grimaces faintly again. "...I'm not at my best in the dark." Slight smile (though the eyes remain somber), to dilute and pass on from the first bits of the answer, "It wasn't that simple, but that was a large part."
Brennan has no reaction to this. In fact, he has no obvious reaction to much of anything she says. Instead, he listens to it carefully and saves up some questions for the end.
Brennan says, "While there's benefit to knowing how best to combat Dara and her minions, what we need first and foremost are details-- what you gathered, what you sent back, how you sent it back, how it might be used, and who might make use of it.
"We can start guiding with questions after you've given us as many details as you can."
As an afterthought, but an important one, Brennan adds, "And when. When you sent things back."
Caine nods. "Exactly. More specifics, please. Who did you impersonate and to whom did you speak? Where did you hide and what did you see that you reported? How frequently did you report in and by what method? How were you caught and how were you captured?"
"Slow down, uncle!" says Cambina, writing furiously. "OK, go ahead."
Caine just lifts his chin at Aisling.
Aisling smiles at him, and it holds a second longer than the smile at Gerard (before flickering out and fleeing similarly), oh thank you thank you for asking questions, now I can give you what you want... "I didn't impersonate people, I invented people. The travelling scholar, Spar, who talked to Nestor. A trader, Brightsea, who talked to the guards and servants and once played poker with Random. Whatever people necessary in the city and Garnath, to talk to other people. I learned about the important dangerous people (save Nestor), only by watching, except when I had to speak to someone to stay in character, but I tried to avoid that, save for the poker game, but that was just stupidity.
"I watched, in the castle, as one of the dogs or cats, or as a greyish velvety flying sucker-snake; it travelled through rat holes inside the walls, stuck to the undersides of furniture. I could watch the library from on top of a shelf, above head-level. I was generally either up in the beams or shadows of the ceiling, or under something with a couple eyes poked out, or outside a window. I saw the debate about killing Corwin as well as many sessions of court from the rafters of the Hall. The yearly coronation feasts. I reported anything that shed light on the important people here, and some "local color" sorts of things, and how things worked here, like taxes and shipping and laundry..." she cuts off, too far, into the realm of "silly", going to look like she's making light of this when in fact she's just all nerves.
She takes a breath, "I sent letters back maybe once or twice a week for nearly six years-- I'd arrived in Amber several months before Bleys and Corwin atacked. The letters were carried by a bird made of my blood and my father's sorcery; it appeared, when summoned, with any letters there might be from him, and vanished when dismissed to carry whatever letter I entrusted it.
"I don't know how I was caught. I was captured when Oberon sent Martin and Dara to bring me to him, the day he came back, and I chose to go."
She acknowledges Brennan with a glance, "I suspected that the information was firstly for some use of my fathers's, and second to throw in tidbits to keep his family away, for it seemed like the life he lived was to try to keep away from interfamilial struggles. But I don't know. He was a very closed being."
And, having listened to the end, Brennan now asks his questions on what she just said:
"Is that a complete list of the people you impersonated-- invented-- while you were spying? Or was it just a representative example. If it was just an example, I think a complete list is necessary."
There's an ambiguity on that-- a complete list right now, or a complete list written down very soon-- that Brennan leaves intentionally for one of the Admirals to clarify.
Aisling gives him a look. It's unreadable, but it's a long look.
Since Brennan can't read it, Brennan is conversely not affected by it, except to look back at her, waiting for her to continue her debriefing.
"How, precisely, did you arrive in Amber?"
"Where was it that you used to stay when not about your business? Or places, if it was more than one."
Caine nods at the list, as if ticking off his own set of questions. He adds one open-ended one. "It would be useful to know more of Madoc. What do you know about his interfamilial struggles? Assume I know nothing of them."
Before anyone else can speak, Caine adds, "Also, these letters you mentioned. Would they be the ones you wanted from Martin?"
Aisling looks at Caine. "I saved a few of the letters my father sent me for sentimental reasons," the word "sentimental" with a shadow of bitterness. "We could have perhaps used them to feel him out on the subject of Dara, or to see if he yet lives," without expression.
"The people I was in Amber were:
Blossoming, a gossip;
Nightgaunt, a burglar;
Titchy, a wharf rat;
Loam, a temporary chambermaid at The Prince's Retreat;
Chance, a hermit healer in Garnath..." Aisling pauses. "...There are at
least that many again more. Shall I write out the rest later?"
Caine is about to respond, but waits as Aisling continues.
She blinks, and her eyebrows twitch a bit, the faintest echoes of 'aw crap', "And I'm afraid there were a few times I impersonated people, to speak in friendship to people I hadn't developed relationships with on my own. I impersonated Lugh, of your guards; Argyle and Lacy, of your staff. I did not think to mention this at first because 'twas not common, nor for political ends." Aisling's hand squeezes her arm lightly.
She makes eye contact with all to indicate that she hasn't forgotten their questions and will be getting to them, ending with Brennan.
Gerard scowls, slightly.
[Aisling]
"I stayed in a
forgotten bit at the top of the servant's wing, open to the roof; also, I
rented a flat in Amber city; also, I had a den on Kolvir and a couple in
Garnath, and a couple caves there.
"I arrived in Amber through a rip between the worlds, I think the same sort of sorcery that Dara's friend got them out of the ballroom with, which my father made. He sent me through to the mountains above the city as a bird. He'd demonstrated previously what Amber birds looked like."
She looks to Caine, "I know very little of Madoc's interfamilial struggles. I did not know that Clarissa was his sister until I came upon them at the funeral." She looks at the non-redhead's reactions without pausing.
Caine nods. Gerard's scowl deepens, marginally. "Go on," says Caine.
"I did not know that he tutored Dara's son until three nights ago. No doubt the longer I live, the more of these... surprises," the word quietly sibilant, "I shall encounter.
"I feel there is something to consider about his chosen abode; as far as possible from Chaos, even painfully so to most of Chaos's creatures; which is to say, nearest of all to Amber, though he never spoke of it. To my knowledge and recall, of his family only Borel ever visited him, and that once; and he never spoke of them. His only mention of his grandmother was that she gave preference to those of female form. He never expressed to me interest in inter-Court politics..." Aisling looks to Caine for further direction.
Gerard asks "Where do ye' think your father stands on the question of Amber?"
Caine nods. "Also, we'll want specifics on each person and location you used. To whom did your gossip gossip. what was the address of your flat, who could we speak to who knew your various identities, all those and any other details of them. I'm sure you'll understand the importance of not contacting anyone or going to those places while I am still investigating them, of course. "
His tone is extremely light and he is smiling. "Is there anything else you should be telling us? I still don't understand what's going on between you and Prince Martin."
[Remainder of thread glossed offlist, followed by Aisling's mysterious disappearance....]
Last modified: 8 December 2003